Historically Accurate
by BuzzCat
Summary: Gabriel helps out young Sam Winchester with some History homework. And talks some smack about King Henry VIII. No shippy-ness, just plotless fluff. Some strong language.


"Hey kid." said Gabriel, stepping through the motel door. Sam looked up, face breaking into a grin. Dean and Dad were out hunting and Sam was just happy to be left alone to do his homework in their tiny motel room. The first time Gabriel had walked in almost 4 years ago, Sam had almost shot him with the shotgun that was about as long as he was tall. Of course, after Gabriel offered candy and homework help, Sam had quickly befriended the archangel. Now Sam couldn't help but grin every time Gabriel walked through the door. He jumped up,

"Gabriel!" He ran over and wrapped his arms around the man. Gabriel put a hand around Sam's back, the other twirling the stick of a sucker in his mouth. He pulled the sucker out with a pop,

"Yes, it is I. How's life?" he asked. Sam stepped back and shrugged,

"Eh. Not bad. Dean and Dad are off hunting, so I'm pretty much doing homework and watching crap TV."

"Hey, watch the language."

"You say so much worse than 'crap'!" said Sam, folding his arms with a pout. Gabriel ruffled Sam's untamable hair,

"Yeah, but I'm not thirteen."

"Fine. I do homework and watch _terrible_ TV." said Sam with a grin. He liked joking with Gabriel. At least Gabriel laughed. Dad didn't. Gabriel nodded at Sam's correction,

"Much better," Gabriel sat in the other chair at the table and propped his feet up on the table, not six inches from Sam's homework, "So what subject is torturing you today?" he asked. Sam sank back into his chair with a loud sigh, dropping his head onto his open notebook with a resounding _thud!_,

"History. Henry VIII and his bajillion wives."

"Oh God. Henry the Eighth…there's an asshole if I ever knew one."

"You knew Henry the Eighth?" asked Sam with a skeptical eyebrow that wouldn't have been raised two years ago. The kid was more intelligent than was healthy. Gabriel took a split second to lament Sam's growing up so damn fast. Back in the day, Sam would have accepted it without question that of course Gabriel knew Henry the Eighth, didn't everybody? Gabriel shrugged at Sam's question,

"I knew him well enough."

"He's been dead forever."

"Not _forever_; he was alive at one point. Anyway, I'm me. Archangel, remember?" he said, tapping his head. Sam nodded,

"Oh yeah. You're too human; I forgot." he said. Gabriel smiled to himself. Never before had someone _forgotten_ he was an archangel. It was nice to be treated normally, even if he knew he was so far from human there wasn't even a scale to measure it. Gabriel still rolled his eyes,

"Anyway, Henry the Eighth. You have to write a paper or something?'

"Yeah. One page on him."

"Only a page? That's about enough to cover how much of an asshole he was to his wives."

"Will you tell me?" asked Sam, his head popping up from his notebook, looking at Gabriel expectantly. Gabriel shrugged,

"Sure. You got a pencil?'

"Yeah. Shoot." said Sam and Gabriel grinned. He normally wasn't much for anything that didn't involve punishing the wicked or sugar, but talking smack about assholes from the past was quickly becoming his new favorite hobby. Gabriel leaned back in his chair,

"Alright. Right now you're just going to want to take notes and format this all into some kind of coherent paper later. You cool with that?"

"Yeah, just tell me about it." said Sam impatiently. Gabriel grinned,

"Alright, alright. Cool your jets. The first thing to know is that I don't care what historians say, he had syphilis. It is physically impossible for a man to sleep with that many different women and not get some kind of disease. Next: he was a grade-A asshole. He divorced basically all of his wives because he wanted to go chase new tail. The man popularized a new religion in England so he could tap that and still count any resulting son as legitimate. He had Anne Boleyn executed because she never had a living son, even though it was totes his fault because science proved that. You still with me?' asked Gabriel, crunching the last of his sucker. Sam nodded, his eyes never leaving his paper,

"Yeah, keep going. But, just to cover the main bases, when was he born, when did he die, and what was that new religion called?"

"Born June 28, 1491 and died January 28, 1547. Started the English Reformation and created Protestantism." reeled off Gabriel. Sam shook his head,

"That's a lot of work to…do it with someone." he said. Gabriel grinned,

"You can say 'have sex'. I won't tell anyone."

"I'm good, thanks." said Sam, his face burned red. Gabriel shook his head,

"Well, do you need anything else? Or can we do fun things like watch crap TV now?" he asked. Sam grinned,

"Let's watch TV." Both ran over and plopped onto the couch, Gabriel in his corner and Sam in his. No matter what motel room they were in, Sam still had his spot and Gabriel had his. Sam grabbed the remote but Gabriel snapped his fingers and it appeared in the archangel's hand. Sam scowled,

"Hey!"

"Uh-uh. I helped you with homework; I pick the show." he said. Sam crossed his arms,

"Fine." Gabriel turned it to Sam's favorite program anyway. Sam grinned and leaned forward, watching intently. Gabriel stretched back in his chair, closing his eyes. It was such a stark change from his own family to be hanging out with Sam. No fighting, no threats, just good old-fashion…His eyes shot open. Since when did he consider Sam family? When the fuck did that happen? Gabriel shook his head at himself. Fuck it. The kid was family, if only because Gabriel knew that the kid's own father was basically a big bag of dicks. Gabriel himself might not have had the most reliable father figure, but dammit, he was going to make sure that Sam Winchester had someone. Where Sam couldn't see, Gabriel snapped his fingers and a cell phone appeared in his pocket. He grabbed a scrap of motel paper and a pen, scribbling some numbers on it. He handed it to Sam, who looked away from the commercial break to accept the paper,

"What's this?" asked Sam. Gabriel rolled his eyes,

"A recipe for mac and cheese. What do you think it is?"

"Your phone number? I thought you didn't have a phone." he said. Gabriel shrugged and tried not to smile,

"It's new. Just remember, if you forget the exact numbers, just type in HERSHEY." he said. Sam snorted,

"Of course your phone number is chocolate." Sam tucked the paper into his pants. Gabriel shrugged and pulled a Butterfinger bar out of his pocket,

"Don't hate me 'cause you ain't me."

"Watch your language. 'Ain't' isn't a proper word." said Sam in a mocking tone. Gabriel smiled his shit-eating grin that always pissed Michael off to no end,

"That's right, it isn't. But I'm an adult so I can say whatever I damn well please. Call me when you have problems." he said, regrettably standing. He knew Sam and Dean were periodically monitored by some angels and he didn't want it to be too obvious that he was hanging around lest any of them report him to higher ups. Sam smiled at him,

"Thanks for the help."

"No problem." He stood up, stretched, ruffled Sam's hair, and left. Outside the door, Gabriel took a deep breath. He really needed to stop hanging out with Sam Winchester. Big things had been foretold for that kid and most of it wasn't good. Plus, he was practically regarding the kid as family. A _human_. As _family_. This had to be bad for his health.


End file.
